Gjallarhorn
Gjallarhorn Lore: “If there is beauty in destruction, why not also in its delivery?” — Feizel Crux Randy finally reaches the Tower. It was a long road from the Cosmodrome, but Shaw Han had given him some good directions. His ship had only exploded twice on the trip from Old Russia, and while he defended his Ghost’s second (and much better) repair job, he even found some loot! As he materializes on the receiving pad of the Tower, a gathering horde of Humans and Guardians of all “ages” gather around a singular figure deep in the crowd. Randy can feel an almost mythic aura—exotic, even—radiating from the figure. He jabs his scuffed elbows through the crowd to get a clear look. When he finally breaks through, he understands the draw: the Guardian. They stand, one leg propped up on the Tower railing. Randy’s Ghost talked about this person a few times before. Some kind of hero. Big deal. Randy was a hero too. “Amazing,” a Titan says about the weapon in the Guardian’s hands. Randy looks at the Titan wearing a strange chainmail visor. “It’s just a rocket launcher. I got one of those in Old Russia the other day,” Randy brags proudly, unholstering a launcher. His Ghost, Dandy, nudges him. “Now listen here, berry blue,” Dandy says. “What you are looking at in the Guardian’s hands is a top-of-the-line wolfpack deployment device. Each firing of which unleashes hell in the form of a swarm of homing micro rockets. I’ve told you a flock of crows is called a murder? Well, they really should’ve reserved the name for this swarm instead.” Randy holds up his Bad Omens. “I can put a tracking module on this.” Dandy chuckles. “I guess.” Randy looks at the Bad Omens. His pride turns into frustration at the mediocrity of his equipment. In a fit of anger, he heaves the launcher over the Guardian’s head and over the Tower railing. The Guardian pivots and drops to a solid stance. They shoulder and fire off the Gjallarhorn like a volcanic eruption, blowing the Bad Omens to smithereens. Micro tracking rockets hunt down and turn each piece of falling debris to fireworks before they hit the ground. The acrid-sweet smell of burning fuel hangs in the air. Randy’s jaw drops. The Guardian steps forward and places the Gjallarhorn into Randy’s hands with a smile. “Start your legend with this instead.” Discover More Weapons Here
Lorentz Driver
Lorentz Driver Lore: “Weapon system no longer explodes when trigger is pulled.” —Prototype 7.2.1 Revision Notes “What about this rifle?” Skorso asks over the sound of two Brigs moving cargo. Her overseer, a three-armed Vandal named Piiksi, pulls back the drop-cloth covering it. He takes a moment to assess the way the rifle is pieced together from non-weapon components, then motions toward where the Brigs are walking. “Good meals can still spoil,” Piiksi says. “Bring it. But all these spare parts can be left behind.” Skorso nods in acknowledgement, but instead of immediately returning to work, she sidles up close to Piiksi, her eyes darting around the warehouse. “Is this really happening?” she asks in a whisper. Piiksi steps away from her as she sets the rifle down on a nearby crate. “Maybe. Two hands in greeting, two hands concealed. It is a matter of survival.” Skorso challenges Piiksi’s avoidance and circles around the crate, four eyes narrowed. “Spider’s scared,” she whispers again. “Isn’t he?” Piiksi quickly leans in. “You say that any louder, and I can’t protect you from what will happen next,” he says in a sharp whisper, glancing over his shoulder. “Where would we even go?” Skorso asks, searching Piiksi’s many eyes. Her supervisor’s answer is a backpedaling shrug. “Don’t know,” Piiksi lies and gives her a toothy smile. “But like some Eliksni say: the Light provides.” Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales. Proin elementum, odio in auctor volutpat, arcu arcu consectetur diam, quis porttitor nibh quam a lacus.
Ager’s Scepter
Ager’s Scepter Lore: “One day, you will mold the world to your liking, dear brother, as I always have.” —Queen Mara Sov Mara Sov watched her brother imitate a swooping bird as he entertained a semicircle of children. They flocked to him as if the stories he spun were confections. Uldren lurched to his feet—his shadow casting a heroic pose against a canopy of towering Baryon trees—and thrust a slender blade into the air. “Straight through the storm!” he howled as Awoken children shrieked with laughter and applause. “That’s right. The two kestrels were like blades sailing on the wind,” he said, sheathing the fine steel. “As long as they were together, nothing could stop them.” Mara turned to survey the Awoken flotilla anchored deep within their borders, suspended around a floating starport. Soon they would disembark. This night was for revelry. For families to enshrine in their memories should loved ones fail to return. In the morning, Saturn waited. Far-off asteroids groaned like thunder, sending the children into a frenzy of gasps. “Sounds like Ager’s having another battle,” Uldren said, stepping onto a bench to get a better view. He brought a hand to his brow, as if sighting an advancing stormfront. A young Awoken child, no older than six, stood. Uldren watched the worry well in her eyes. “Is he okay? Can you see them fighting?” “Oh yes,” Uldren answered. “Come here.” The child stepped forward. “If I’m not mistaken, your name is Erith, isn’t it?” Uldren asked. The girl nodded, awestruck. Uldren pulled a looking glass from his belt and placed it in her hand. “Look where I’m pointing.” Erith followed the prince’s direction to a spot in the sky that flashed with color. “I see Ager!” she proclaimed proudly. “I see Rega!” Uldren patted her shoulder and smiled. “As long as the two of them are together, nothing can stop them. Just like us. Stand with your cousins, and you’ll be all right.” Mara met his eyes and stepped forward. “That’s enough. The prince has a long journey in the morning, and he must rest. Run along now.” Once the children were beyond eyesight, Mara’s expression shifted to a glare. “These stories…” She leaned into Uldren. “Stop filling their heads with nonsense.” Discover More Weapons Here
Forerunner
Forerunner Lore: A new chapter for an old legend. Banshee-44 considered the relic on his workbench and the questions on his mind; one stood out above the rest: who were you meant for? The form of the weapon suggested an oversized sidearm—a secondary weapon for a giant’s hands. The function presented more so as an anti-material rifle. “Looks to be 12.7mm… it’s like they were making a hand cannon but didn’t know it yet.” Banshee wondered further about the warrior who could wield such a thing. His attention drifted momentarily, drawn by Shaxx’s voice booming nearby. “Huh. Yeah. A Titan, maybe… and a big one too.” The weapon was laced with fractures from a life of fire and a sleep of ice, and perhaps other, more exotic stresses. Banshee wished he could’ve heard the relic’s voice, but he knew from earlier examination that it had fired its last round. What a last round it must have been. The Guardian who brought it to him might be willing to try a shot, untroubled by the risk of a rapid unplanned dismantle. But Banshee knew it wouldn’t last through a single magazine. Beside the relic lay a stripped-down Breachlight. He would adapt it for a larger round. Custom casings and handguard. Sensorium link scope… and he had other ideas to try as well. It would be an homage, an offering to the creators of the original relic. A legacy. With that satisfying thought in mind, the gunsmith went to work. Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie.
Zephyr
Zephyr Lore: In the cold of winter, we remember that the warm west wind will blow again. Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales. Proin elementum, odio in auctor volutpat, arcu arcu consectetur diam, quis porttitor nibh quam a lacus. Donec efficitur vitae erat at auctor. Suspendisse erat mauris, mollis nec justo ac, fringilla ultrices neque. Pellentesque vel facilisis ipsum. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Suspendisse dignissim urna dui, quis posuere magna tincidunt eu. Nam vitae pulvinar dui, a auctor ex. Morbi in aliquet magna. Maecenas luctus dui ac tellus volutpat tempor. Quisque at vehicula lacus, in molestie tellus. Duis consequat odio sit amet posuere pulvinar. Quisque sapien ex, porttitor eget imperdiet eu, varius quis nibh. Praesent id rhoncus dui. Duis nunc ex, accumsan quis fringilla ut, scelerisque eu lectus. Sed tristique non elit sed porttitor. Etiam scelerisque elit mi, et bibendum metus egestas vitae. Proin a purus a ligula eleifend eleifend. Proin nec molestie odio. Proin tincidunt neque congue enim sodales eleifend a et velit. Sed mollis quis dolor ut semper. Phasellus nisi lacus, egestas sed lectus a, finibus lacinia massa. Nulla consectetur nibh quis varius porta. Donec ac dui id ex ultrices lobortis. Pellentesque lacinia erat vel massa ultricies, eget feugiat neque fermentum. Nam vestibulum metus ac est dignissim rutrum. Sed aliquet egestas turpis, ac molestie urna fringilla et. Vivamus ut mauris pretium ante aliquet dapibus. Morbi a pellentesque massa. In nibh leo, tincidunt gravida urna at, suscipit finibus turpis. Duis sed dictum dolor. Etiam tincidunt mauris nec turpis volutpat dictum. Maecenas a varius velit. Aliquam sit amet ex nec nunc viverra sollicitudin non ac nunc. Aliquam in turpis sed justo tempor eleifend at.
Reed’s Regret (Adept)
Reed’s Regret (Adept) Lore: “Trust me.” —Savathûn as Osiris Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales. Proin elementum, odio in auctor volutpat, arcu arcu consectetur diam, quis porttitor nibh quam a lacus. Donec efficitur vitae erat at auctor. Suspendisse erat mauris, mollis nec justo ac, fringilla ultrices neque. Pellentesque vel facilisis ipsum. Interdum et malesuada fames ac ante ipsum primis in faucibus. Suspendisse dignissim urna dui, quis posuere magna tincidunt eu. Nam vitae pulvinar dui, a auctor ex. Morbi in aliquet magna. Maecenas luctus dui ac tellus volutpat tempor. Quisque at vehicula lacus, in molestie tellus. Duis consequat odio sit amet posuere pulvinar. Quisque sapien ex, porttitor eget imperdiet eu, varius quis nibh. Praesent id rhoncus dui. Duis nunc ex, accumsan quis fringilla ut, scelerisque eu lectus. Sed tristique non elit sed porttitor. Etiam scelerisque elit mi, et bibendum metus egestas vitae. Proin a purus a ligula eleifend eleifend. Proin nec molestie odio. Proin tincidunt neque congue enim sodales eleifend a et velit. Sed mollis quis dolor ut semper. Phasellus nisi lacus, egestas sed lectus a, finibus lacinia massa. Nulla consectetur nibh quis varius porta. Donec ac dui id ex ultrices lobortis. Pellentesque lacinia erat vel massa ultricies, eget feugiat neque fermentum. Nam vestibulum metus ac est dignissim rutrum. Sed aliquet egestas turpis, ac molestie urna fringilla et. Vivamus ut mauris pretium ante aliquet dapibus. Morbi a pellentesque massa. In nibh leo, tincidunt gravida urna at, suscipit finibus turpis. Duis sed dictum dolor. Etiam tincidunt mauris nec turpis volutpat dictum. Maecenas a varius velit. Aliquam sit amet ex nec nunc viverra sollicitudin non ac nunc. Aliquam in turpis sed justo tempor eleifend at.
Reed’s Regret
Reed’s Regret Lore: “Trust me.” —Savathûn as Osiris A ceiling light flickers to life with a buzzing click, radiating a florescent pink glow. Moths scatter among the racks of weapons mounted on the walls. Reed-7 ducks into the room, barely able to shut the door behind him. The space is little more than a closet: an arms locker stuffed to the ceiling with a collection of weapons. His hip brushes past a workbench, where a black-and-gold-plated fusion rifle marked with the Eye of Osiris rests. He sinks into the seat at the workbench, shoulders slouched forward. The chair groans in protest under his weight. There are notes scrawled on loose papers around the fusion rifle, all in his friend Shayura’s handwriting. A fine layer of dust covers everything. Reed turns the fusion rifle over in his hands. He remembers when Saint-14 gave this to Shayura for her accomplishments in the Trials. He remembers a few months later when Shayura had a breakdown during a match and nearly killed another Guardian. He remembers the fallout. The anger. The pain. “Do not worry for Shayura,” Osiris had told him. Reed can still hear his voice haunting the back of his mind. “I am no stranger to these kinds of traumas. I can look after her. Guide her.” Reed’s grip around the fusion rifle tightens. “Show her the way back to clarity.” His hand trembles. “You can trust me.” Discover More Weapons Here – ext Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec ornare placerat interdum. Integer sollicitudin gravida sem quis tempor. In pharetra placerat molestie. Nam sodales finibus est sed gravida. Sed tristique semper mi, sed finibus ex vulputate molestie. Suspendisse mollis quam ut aliquam sodales.
Peacebond
Peacebond Lore: “I will honor the terms of this armistice on one condition: the Iron Lords enforce it.” —Lord Saladin Each passing moment is marked by the click of an analog timer on the wall. When the pressure gauge reaches 100 percent, the timer releases a final click and the airlock doors grind open in the hangar bay. Lord Saladin tucks his helmet under his arm and marches inside. He is met by banners of blue and white ringing the walls, each bearing the crest of the Caiatl’s empire, the Cabal Ascendancy. A pair of blue-armored Phalanxes greet Saladin at the entrance with raised rifles, but the Iron Lord strides past without a glance. The Phalanxes slowly lower their rifles and turn toward a heavily armored Valus approaching from the other side of the hangar. “You come alone?” Valus Or’ohk bellows, reaching up to wrench his helmet off. A pressurized hiss escapes as the environmental seal breaks. “You are bold, Commander.” “Lord,” Saladin corrects as he closes the distance between them. “My title is Iron Lord.” Valus Or’ohk comes to a stop, looking down at Saladin with narrowed eyes. “Iron Lord Saladin,” he tests the unfamiliar words with gnashing teeth. “You are bold.” “I’m not here for flattery or your formal processions,” Saladin rebukes, now within arm’s reach of the Valus. Saladin looks up at him, unafraid, undeterred. “How do you want to do this?” The Valus locks eyes with Saladin, then snorts loudly and rumbles with appreciative laughter. “I have a war room,” he says in a more conversational tone. No more boasts, no more chest-beating. “We are tracking the movements of Hive ships in the vicinity of the Mars anomaly.” “There have been developments in the Dreaming City regarding Xivu Arath you should be aware of,” Saladin replies. “Lead the way.” Discover More Weapons Here
Fractethyst
Fractethyst Lore: “Imagine that as the last sound you hear.” —Petra Venj Amanda Holliday finished welding the new fluid catch to the underside of the Ether tanks with a satisfied grunt. She wriggled her way backwards into the corridor and bumped into the legs of the massive Eliksni who was crouched behind her. “Mithrax!” she scolded, pulling off her welding helmet. “Amanda,” Mithrax replied. “You are unexpected, but welcome. You are improving our Ether tanks?” “I threw a fresh fluid catch on there, yeah,” Amanda shrugged as she repacked her tools. “It’s nothing you couldn’t do yourselves, but I was passing by.” Mithrax gazed across the Botza District for a moment. “I find that unlikely,” he said wryly. Amanda laughed. “C’mon now. You know what they say about gift horses.” Mithrax cocked his head. “Forget it,” she said. “So, how’ve y’all been doing down here? Since, y’know…” she trailed off. “Since the Human and Vex attacks have ceased, we have been well,” Mithrax said, standing to his full height as he pulled Amanda to her feet. “With the Endless Night lifted, resources are more plentiful. I see your people and mine moving forward together.” “Yeah, it’s nice,” Amanda agreed. “Things are happening now I wouldn’t have dreamed of a few months ago. The other day, I saw a group of Eliksni at the Bazaar picking out Ghost shells!” Mithrax’s laughter was a deep rumble. “Yes, the empty shells are quite beautiful. Would you introduce me to your Ghost, Amanda? I would enjoy meeting them.” “Ooh, sorry,” Amanda chuckled. She put two fingers to her wrist. “Still got a pulse. No Ghost for me.” Mithrax balked. “You are not a Lightbearer?” “Nope,” she said, “just a regular person.” Mithrax thought for a moment. “To aid as you do without the gift of the Light…” he said, bringing a clawed hand to his chest and bowing. “There is much my people would learn from you.” Amanda shifted from one foot to the other and scratched at her neck. “Afraid I ain’t much of a teacher,” she said quietly. Mithrax smiled. “I find that unlikely.” Discover More Weapons Here
Vulpecula
Vulpecula Lore: “Ammunition is the universal currency of the Sol system. The Cabal prefer to keep it that way.” —Caiatl, Empress of the Cabal Empress Caiatl brooded over a holographic display of the Dreaming City. The map was marked with bombardment targets, landing zones, and forward operating bases, which had been decided by an emergency convention of her military advisors. Now all that remained was for the empress to order the attack. Taurun entered quietly, carrying a datapad. She stamped her foot lightly to announce her presence. Caiatl did not look up. “As a princess,” the empress said, “I heard many stories of the Awoken from my father’s mythkeeper. Stories of spaces beyond time. Of the dragons that bend reality. Stories of a whole city, built by wishes.” She sliced the air with her tusks in annoyance. “It would be a waste to destroy it.” “But perhaps a strategic necessity.” Taurun bent both knees slightly and held up the datapad, indicating a discovery. “Lord Saladin approached us on behalf of the Vanguard. He confirms what we already suspected. Savathûn, the Witch Queen, is in the Dreaming City.” “A captive?” Caiatl looked up. Taurun thought she detected a concealed note of hopefulness in the ruler’s tone. “It’s unclear.” Taurun clicked her teeth in equivocation. “Informants on the ground report that she’s confined, but the Psions insist she traveled there of her own free will to escape Xivu Arath.” “A voluntary prisoner.” Caiatl glowered. “This smells of Hive trickery.” “It does, my empress.” Taurun lowered her brow in deference to her ruler’s mood. “However, Mara Sov is powerful, and no stranger to subterfuge. It’s fair to assume that she has a plan in place.” “So does Savathûn.” Caiatl clicked off the holographic display. Darkness rushed into the room. Taurun could see the consequences of such a decision weighing heavily on her ruler’s brow. Then, suddenly, the weight lifted—the empress had decided. “Have Lord Saladin return to Zavala with a message.” Discover More Weapons Here
